


The Game of Love

by Miss_Peg



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Romance, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 19:15:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Peg/pseuds/Miss_Peg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Jane does something for Lisbon on Valentine’s Day and one time he doesn’t…almost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Game of Love

**Author's Note:**

> A fun five times (well, technically six times) fic for the Paint It Red Monthly Challenge for February, using the prompt kiss.

‘Someone’s looking a little green,’ said Jane as he appeared in the doorway. Lisbon rolled her eyes and motioned him inside.

‘I haven’t received a Valentine’s gift in twenty years, why would I want to start now?’

Jane smiled and stood in front of her desk. ‘That doesn’t mean you’re not jealous.’

‘Jealous of what?’ she scoffed. ‘Flowers die, then again so does love so what’s so great about that?’

‘Now, now Lisbon, where’s your Valentine’s spirit?’

Lisbon glowered at him as he sat down on the couch, the last thing she wanted – or needed – was an office guest. She still had paperwork to complete for the last case and their latest case was particularly trying.

‘When was your last Valentine?’ asked Lisbon, placing her pen down and raising an eyebrow in Jane’s direction.

‘I got a card last year.’

‘Who from?’

‘How should I know?’

The little sound that came out of Lisbon’s mouth surprised even her; Jane’s attempt at persuading her of the joy of Saint Valentine’s Day was hardly successful and she didn’t expect it to be either.

‘The enjoyment isn’t in knowing where the gift comes from, Lisbon,’ said Jane, standing up, a finger pointed outwards. ‘The point is not knowing who your Valentine is.’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ she said, picking her pen back up. ‘We’re not in high school anymore Jane, why can’t people just say what they mean and not hide behind flowers, cards and social media?’

‘Social media?’

‘It was on the news this morning, some teenager made a Twitter account just to shower his girlfriend with anonymous messages.’

Jane’s smile grew whilst Lisbon wanted to – figuratively – throw up. Valentine’s Day wasn’t depressing enough as a single to have couples thrown in her face at every direction. She opted for the news of a morning in order to understand what was going on in the world; unnecessary holidays were not part of that.

‘That sounds awfully romantic,’ said Jane.

‘Then get out of my office,’ Lisbon replied, waving a hand for him to go.

On returning from lunch a couple of hours later, Lisbon entered her office to find a cup of coffee on her desk beside a paper bag. She slipped the bag open and the scent of almond filled the room. She glanced across to Jane’s couch through the window; of course it had to have been Jane to pick her up a bear claw, even if it was hours from breakfast she still appreciated the sentiment. However, he wasn’t in his usual spot.

Eventually he showed up at her office door with his hands behind his back and a smirk across his face. The bear claw settled uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach as she swallowed her final bite. Whatever he was planning, she hoped it wasn’t going to be too ostentatious.

‘Happy Saint Valentine’s Day,’ said Jane, holding out a single red rose as he stepped towards her desk.

She paused momentarily before accepting the rose with a smile. Cliché aside, the gesture was simple. Jane stood watching as she sniffed the scented petals, waiting for her to respond.

‘I don’t even like roses,’ she said. ‘They’re overrated, but thank you.’

‘Duly noted,’ he replied and left the office without another word.

x

Valentine’s Day just kept on rolling up, as if the years didn’t already appear to fly by, one of the few days of the year that Lisbon disliked felt as though it happened more than once. She knew that was merely a figment of her imagination and in fact, it only occurred once every twelve months. But the weeks of cards and gifts in every store she set foot in only irritated her further.

On top of that, they’d had a call at three in the morning about a murder with a twisted Valentine’s theme. The body had been found covered in rose petals and encircled by a red love heart painted in the deceased’s blood. Had she not known any better, Lisbon might have suspected Red John’s involvement.

‘Some people are sick,’ commented Van Pelt as they spread out into the small crowd that had gathered by sunrise and began asking questions.

The perverse theme of the murder only spiked the interest of the whole team and many of the passers-by. It wasn’t every day you came across such a public declaration of love, or hatred, Lisbon couldn’t decide which. Only time would tell.

‘Jane, what do you make of all this?’ she asked once he finally arrived at the crime scene.

He gave it the once over. Lisbon waiting impatiently for his opinion, the sooner they could return to the office the better. The number of people sporting bouquets of flowers and elaborate gifts was already growing on her last nerve.

‘It’s a crime of passion,’ he said, kneeling down and carefully analysing every inch of the body. ‘Misplaced anger or pain. The killer didn’t know the victim well up until recently, then he forced his way into her life. Probably a friend of a friend. She reminded him too much of an ex-girlfriend, a woman who broke his heart.’

A shiver travelled down Lisbon’s spine and she folded her arms across her chest, the thought of all of the brief liaisons she’d had with near-strangers was less than appealing knowing how some of them ended.

‘I think we have a potential serial killer on our hands,’ said Jane, standing up and dusting off the knees of his trousers.

‘Serial killer? There’s only been one murder.’

‘If we don’t catch this man soon, he will kill again.’

Lisbon groaned and returned to the rest of the team. They had enough serial killers to attend to on a daily basis; she didn’t really want to add any more to their repertoire. Red John was taxing enough.

On her return to the office, Lisbon had been quite bewildered by the small collection of items on her desk. She reached out to the single orangey-red gerbera placed in front of a card and held it up to her nose. Then she opened the card, pushed aside a couple of theatre tickets and read the few simple words.

‘Happy Saint Valentine’s Day, Teresa.’

When she sat down at her desk, Jane walked through the door with two mugs and sat one down in front of her before returning to the doorway.

‘I really like the Gerbera,’ she said, sipping on the fresh mug of steaming coffee.

‘I’ll pick you up at seven,’ he replied, before walking out of the office.

x

On a rare occasion Valentine’s Day landed on one of Lisbon’s days off, much to her annoyance. It was harder to hide away from the loved up couples and the ill-conceived displays of affection when she didn’t have a case to distract her. Daytime television was littered with romance movies and couples sharing their stories. Regardless, Lisbon spent a portion of the day channel hopping until she grew tired of the repetitive motion.

It wasn’t until midday when she realised that Valentine’s Day had grown into something she hadn’t expected it to be.

A long time ago she believed that Valentine’s Day meant nothing to her, occasionally she received a joke card from her brothers or a family card from her niece, but she gained no joy in partaking in the occasion.

That was, until a couple of years ago when one Patrick Jane had begun something which she half hoped would become a tradition. The other half of her considered how ridiculous it was to expect someone who she wasn’t even romantically entangled with to send her a gift on a day she loathed.

No amount of arguing with herself would change the fact that when she finally went out to the mailbox, Lisbon was pleasantly surprised to find a single orangey-red gerbera – not unlike the one she’d received the previous year – and a card.

The card, though a different print than previously, still shared the exact same sentiment and was more a work of art than a gesture of love.

‘Happy Saint Valentine’s Day, Teresa.’

Rather disappointingly, there were no tickets to the theatre. The year before, Lisbon had rather enjoyed sitting beside her consultant as they watched a performance of Rent at a local amateur dramatics society. The acting was varied, as was the vocal ability of the stars, but the evening was entertaining and distracted her long enough to forget her misgivings about the day.

Some hours later and Lisbon found herself sat on her couch barely reading a mildly unappealing novel. She’d picked it up at a thrift store the week before and figured that, despite only spending a dollar, she should probably follow through with her purchase and read the book from cover to cover.

A knock at the door distracted her long enough to toss the book aside and justify breaking her desire to read something so utterly pointless. When she opened the door, her errant consultant smiled at her and held up a set of keys.

‘Jane,’ she said, half-surprised at his appearance.

‘It’s Valentine’s Day,’ Jane replied as if his presence should have been entirely expected.

‘What did you do?’ she asked, trying to hide the smile spreading across her face as he handed her the set of keys.

‘I got a rental car for the night,’ he replied, stepping to one side in order to show off the red 1950s Chevy convertible. ‘Hurry up, we don’t want to be late.’

‘Late for what?’

‘The drive-in movie of course.’

‘Of course,’ replied Lisbon with the rise of her eyebrow. She disappeared into her townhouse for a few minutes as she gathered her purse and jacket before she followed him out into the street.

x

When a call woke Lisbon in the middle of the night she had one of two thoughts; something had happened to one of her brothers, or they had a case. Unfortunately, on yet another Valentine’s Day morning, the DA was giving her details of a case north of Sacramento. Though the latter was preferred over the former, Lisbon would have rather had an uninterrupted night’s sleep.

When she arrived at the spa in Clearlake, Lisbon was a little perturbed to find a receptionist with no idea of what she was enquiring about.

‘I got a call a couple of hour ago from the District Attorney’s office,’ she informed the young woman. ‘I was told that there had been a murder at this location.’

‘No, Ma’am,’ the young woman assured her. ‘There’s been no murder.’

‘Then what is going on?’

‘I don’t know,’ said the girl with a brief shrug. ‘Perhaps it’s a Valentine’s Day surprise.’

Lisbon froze as she considered the young woman’s words. The very thought of Jane creating some elaborate ruse to get her out of the office stressed her out more than she imagined a spa was designed to.

‘She’s right,’ said Jane and Lisbon turned to face him. A smug look on his face was enough to make her want to slap him hard across the face.

‘I could kill you, Jane,’ said Lisbon under her breath.

‘Then we really would have a murder case to deal with. Of course, I’d also be dead.’

With a roll of her eyes, Lisbon folded her arms across her chest and waited in silence for Jane to explain himself. She’d been awoken from a fairly decent sleep – something she didn’t always get – dragged two hours away from her home and all for the sake of some surprise. She’d never been very fond of grand gestures, particularly not ones she knew nothing about.

‘I cleared it with Bertram; we are going to spend the whole day relaxing.’

‘We?’ asked Lisbon, sceptically.

‘You didn’t think I was going to drive all this way and not make use of the facilities, it is Valentine’s Day after all, Lisbon.’

‘You being here will only make me feel less relaxed,’ she said.

‘Don’t worry about me; I’m going to sit in the sauna.’

The only problem was that she did worry; she always worried whenever Jane was involved. At least with her past Valentine’s treats she’d been able to enjoy herself and Jane’s behaviour had been relatively minimal. Then again, there was only so much trouble one person could cause in a theatre or at a drive-in movie.

‘Call me when you’re done and we’ll have lunch,’ said Jane. ‘I hear the Salmon is to die for.’

Lisbon tapped her foot impatiently as Jane registered the two of them for their day passes. It wasn’t until Jane attempted to hand over her pass that he noticed her disapproval.

‘What is it now, Lisbon? You’re wasting precious relaxation time.’

Lisbon smirked briefly. ‘Do I at least get my gerbera and card?’

‘I thought you’d never ask,’ said Jane as he handed over her flower and printed card.

She’d never admit it to him, but Lisbon had carefully dried each flower and placed it between the sides of each card. When he disappeared in the direction of the sauna, Lisbon held the gerbera up to her nose and read the familiar words on the card.

x

The first sign that something was amiss was that the blinds in Lisbon’s office were all closed. After four years of Jane’s rather unique ways of celebrating Valentine’s Day, Lisbon had been expecting something from the second she woke up. The absence of a late night phone call was a relief as they’d had a number of difficult cases over the last few weeks. She carried a mug of coffee towards her office cautiously, after all, a hot drink would not bode well with any of the potential hazards that Lisbon expected when she opened her office door. Jane had once gotten her a pony for her birthday, after all.

It was almost a relief when she opened the door to find Jane hiding behind her desk with a large bunch of balloons. When she set foot in the office, he’d jumped up and yelled surprise, as though she hadn’t already spotted the several red and orange balloons gathered above his head.

‘Good morning, Jane,’ said Lisbon, greeting him with a smile.

‘Coffee and bear claw,’ he announced, motioning to the items on her desk.

Lisbon sat down and exchanged her coffee cup for the fresh drink in front of her. She even allowed Jane to stay whilst she polished off the bear claw. Maybe her motivation was purely selfish; after all, Jane hadn’t shared what particular treat he had on offer. Eventually, he placed her flower and card upon the desk and waited patiently for her to go through her usual routine. The flower smelled as sweet as usual and the picture on the card was particularly appealing, it would go nicely with her small collection.

‘Where are we going this year?’ she asked, unfolding a slip of paper she’d found inside the card. ‘The zoo? Mars?’

The information on the print out felt like some foreign language as Lisbon read through it several times. Her brow creased and she glanced up at Jane with several questions on her mind.

‘Before you say anything, I’ve booked separate rooms.’

‘That wasn’t even on my mind,’ said Lisbon, though she questioned why she hadn’t even considered that. The gift was something considerably larger than he usually offered. In fact, now that she thought about it, each year she had received something larger and more expensive than the year before. ‘You’re taking me to San Francisco for a weekend to see Wicked?’

‘If you’d prefer we can see a different show,’ he replied.

‘No.’ Lisbon paused, reading through the paper once more. The reason for her discomfort, as she quickly realised, was not that Jane had offered her something as generous as a weekend away. It was that she had not once offered him anything in return. ‘This is too much, Jane. I can’t accept this.’

‘This is as much for me as it is for you, Teresa.’

‘At least let me buy the theatre tickets.’

‘I’ve pre-booked.’

‘Then I can give you the money.’

Jane sighed and stayed silent for a moment; eventually Lisbon stopped thinking up ways to repay his kindness and sat in equal silence.

‘I have little to spend my money on,’ he said and for a moment the past lingered between them.

Eventually Lisbon smiled and looked up. ‘Thank you, Jane.’

x

For the first time in a long while, Lisbon was looking forward to Valentine’s Day. She’d checked her cell phone the moment she’d woken up for any sign of what was happening, but Jane was naturally keeping tight lipped. She skipped breakfast and didn’t stop off for coffee as she rushed into the office.

The only problem with her determination to begin the day was that when she opened her office door there was not one sheet of paper out of place. The case files from the night before were still on her desk and Jane was nowhere to be seen. She marched into the bullpen in search of her consultant.

Once the rest of the team had turned up and Jane was still absent, Lisbon distracted herself with the paperwork she’d abandoned in order to get a good night’s sleep. Her stomach rumbled as she regretted not having breakfast, she would pay for it by lunchtime as the packet of cookies in her drawer practically screamed for her attention.

She even attempted to call Jane a number of times, but the calls eventually diverted to voicemail.

After a brief lunch, Lisbon made her way up to the attic where she found Jane resting on his makeshift bed. She walked across the room and stood beside him, her arms folded across her chest.

‘Jane?’

His eyes were still closed but his breathing was definitely a sign that he was awake. Lisbon paused, awaiting a response.

‘Yes, Lisbon?’

‘Why aren’t you downstairs?’

‘Is there a case?’ he asked, remaining in his sedate state.

‘No.’

‘Then I’ll be here until there is.’

She didn’t move from her position beside him; silence overshadowed his slow and gentle breathing. Lisbon considered that perhaps he’d forgotten which day it was, but he was Jane, he often relished in his inability to forget.

‘What is it, Lisbon?’ he asked, breaking the silence as she continued to stand beside him.

‘It’s Valentine’s Day,’ she replied.

The way she was acting was the reason that Lisbon had always hated Valentine’s Day so much. She had become a slave to the expectations of a day she had cared very little about for a long time. Jane had dangled that carrot in front of her time and time again, only to remove it altogether once he knew she would stay.

‘Oh, is it?’ he asked, barely moving from the bed. His eyes remained closed as he continued to breathe calmly.

‘Yeah,’ said Lisbon, edging him along slowly.

‘Happy Valentine’s Day.’

‘Jane?’

‘Yes, Lisbon?’

‘It’s Valentine’s Day,’ she said once more in the hope that it would push him into action.

‘I know, you told me.’

Jane continued to lie on the bed, his eyes firmly closed.

‘Jane…’

‘It’s Valentine’s Day,’ he said. ‘I know…’

She let out a long, heavy sigh and Jane didn’t move. She was tempted to drag him out of the attic and down to the bullpen, if only to make him explain his actions. In the end, she decided to just leave him be. On her way out of the door, Lisbon could hear Jane moving.

‘Lisbon,’ said Jane and she turned around swiftly, hopeful that he wasn’t about to break five years of tradition.

He stood in the centre of the attic with a paper bag, a card and a gerbera. Lisbon’s heart melted as he handed her the expected goodies. She breathed in the almond of the bear claw, the sweet scent of the flower and pulled out yet another beautiful printed card. She imagined it alongside the four previous cards and opened it up carefully.

‘Happy Saint Valentine’s Day, Teresa,’ she read aloud and gasped when she reached the square card informing her of her gift. ‘A hot air balloon ride?’

‘I thought it’d be nice,’ said Jane.

Lisbon dropped the items on the table beside Jane and enveloped him in a hug, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. When she pulled back, Lisbon allowed her lips to briefly pass over Jane’s, before she leaned in and kissed him again.


End file.
